


Scorpius Stories

by Emmazing15



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 14:06:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16834126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmazing15/pseuds/Emmazing15
Summary: The world as told by various versions of Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. What if he was a Gryffindor? Or a Healer? Or anything? Only one way to find out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Song featured is "Out Of My League" by Stephen Speaks

Scorpius was about seven the first time he heard the piano being played in his house. Well, it was the first time he remembered it happening. His mother was having one of her times, when she was ill in bed for days, and his father hardly left her side. At those times, his grandparents often came to stay to play with him, both sets. This weekend it was the Greengrasses, his mother’s parents. His grandmother was in the kitchen with the House Elves (where Scorpius had just left when he heard the piano, with a biscuit, of course) and when he poked his head in the room he saw that it was his grandfather at the piano. His back was to the door.

Since he was a stickler for the rules, Scorpius finished his biscuit before he walked into the room. This room in Malfoy Manor was very important to his parents; it had windows all around, near the high ceiling, that let in so much light and air it didn’t need any artificial help. It also had lots of family portraits on the walls, but they were often empty, because Scorpius’s father said they didn’t like to spend so much time in the bright room.

“Grandfather?” Scorpius piped up over the music.

The playing stopped, and Hyperion Greengrass turned to look over his shoulder. “Hey, pipsqueak,” he said with a small smile. Scorpius wandered over to stand by the piano. “You need something?”

Scorpius shook his head. “No. Nobody’s played this piano before,” he pointed out, and couldn’t help himself, so he quickly pressed down and key and snatched his hand away before he could get scolded.

But his grandfather just laughed. “Your mother used to play lullabies for you when you were a baby, simple ones,” he said as he reached down and lifted Scorpius off his feet and onto his lap, “I tried to teach her and your Auntie Daphne when they were little girls, but neither of them had much of an interest. Your mum picked up the basics though.”

Scorpius didn’t remember that, but that was because he didn’t remember being a baby. He was grown up. “Were you playing a song?” he asked, looking up at his grandfather.

Hyperion nodded. “I was.”

“What’s it called?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t named it. I wrote it myself,” he told the little boy. Scorpius’s blue-grey eyes widened considerably as if he couldn’t believe someone could actually write music. “What do you think I should call it?”

Scorpius frowned. He didn’t know what to call it either. “Does it have words?”

“Not yet,” Hyperion replied.

“Maybe you should ask mum. She names all the stars,” Scorpius told him importantly.

His grandfather chuckled and put his hands back on the keys to start playing again. Scorpius reached over too and put his hands over Hyperion’s, just like he did with his feet when Draco was teaching him how to dance. “Can I learn, grandfather?” Scorpius asked, lifting his head again. He would like to know how to make music.

Hyperion grinned and nodded. “Of course you can,” he said, “I’ll teach you.”

* * *

At thirteen, Scorpius could play Warbeck and Chopin. The piano in Malfoy Manor never went unused with Scorpius living there. His grandfather’s lessons continued, of course, but he didn’t need them nearly as often now. He almost always taught himself songs. Only a few months before then, he listened to his grandfather play that song he wrote, and he wrote down all the notes, or all of the ones he could. It sounded… unfinished. Hyperion said it was, but he had no more to add to it.

So it was in Scorpius’s hands now.

One afternoon, Scorpius was working on it, and he didn’t notice that someone was watching him from the door. She didn’t knock before she said, “That sounds familiar.”

Scorpius paused and turned around. He smiled. “Hi, mum.”

Astoria wandered closer, holding a knitted cloak over her shoulders. Her cheeks had more color today. “What are you playing?” she asked him.

Scorpius shook his head. “I don’t know, it doesn’t have a name yet. Grandfather wrote most of it, I’m just finishing it, I’m considering naming it after grandmother. Would she like that?” he asked, looking up at her.

She nodded and smiled gently. “She would. They both would, but maybe you should name it since you’re writing some of it too.”

“Maybe. But I have no ideas.” He scooted over on the bench to make room for her, but she shook her head. When she was feeling well, Astoria liked to be on her feet and walking about.

“Does it have words?” Astoria asked him then.

“No,” he said, then added thoughtfully, “Maybe I’ll come up with some. Write an entire song.”

Astoria smiled again and leaned over to kiss his head. “I know you can do it, my little virtuoso. You just need some inspiration,” she told him.

Scorpius mirrored her expression and nodded. He turned away and grabbed his glasses from the top of the piano, so he could put them on and actually see the sheet music in front of him (considering he had actually memorized the notes and didn’t need to read them anymore). Astoria didn’t leave as Scorpius studied the music, instead just stood there and watched him. That was more rewarding than walking through any sort of garden in her mind.

* * *

A bit over a year later, Scorpius was in deep. Everything she did mesmerized him. Even when they were just sitting in the library doing work, she was captivating. With every eye roll and flick of her ginger curls, Scorpius fell more and more for Rose Weasley. Even as he teased her about her convoluted way of explaining Patronus Theory.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors had Defense Against the Dark Arts together as fourth years, which was a plus for Scorpius. They were learning shield charms (namely Protego) and general defensive stuff, and when they walked in one day a giant dueling platform was set up in the center of the room with Professor Potter standing on it looking all smug. This, naturally, excited everyone except Albus. Poor kid got a lot of second-hand embarrassment.

Anyway, Scorpius and Rose ended up having to go at it. She looked very unassuming standing before him, waiting for the go ahead. They just stared at each other, and then when they turned around to go to the edge before the could cast, they were giggling. There was never a serious moment between those two. When the ‘duel’ signal was given, Rose was on top of it, and of course Scorpius was too distracted by her absolutely perfect form. He couldn’t even think of casting a shield charm before she sent him sprawling on his back. He stared at the ceiling for a few beats, and then at her, proud face and all, and that’s when he realized.

Later, after his last lesson, he walked into his dormitory and tossed his bag on his bed. Albus, who was in the closest adjacent bed, looked slightly concerned. “Yeah?”

“I’m in love with Rose,” Scorpius stated.

Albus stared at him a few moments. Then he calmly put his book down. “That’s lovely. But I think she might be out of your league,” he said.

Something clicked in his brain then. “Yes,” he muttered. Then Scorpius dove for his trunk, rummaged about a bit, then produced sheet music that was yellowed with age and use. Then he bolted from the room, leaving Albus to sit there alone looking even more confused.

* * *

The piano in Malfoy Manor was slightly out of tune, which Scorpius could fix with a little incantation, and he would when he felt like getting up. Instead, he kept playing, and hummed the words along with it. He tried to be quiet; he had a sleeping wife and children not too far away. But this was much more fun than the paperwork that taunted him in the other room.

Still, he didn’t hear the little footsteps as they ran up behind him. And then the body connected to them jumped right onto Scorpius’s bench. “Whatcha playin’?” Atlas asked him, on his knees so he could see the keys too.

“A song I wrote with my grandad,” Scorpius replied, lifting is right arm so his oldest could snuggle right up to his side, “I wrote the words, he wrote the piano notes.”

“What’s it called?”

“Out of My League. I wrote it for your mum,” he said and started it up again, slower so Atlas could listen closer.

Atlas brightened at the mention of his mother, and without hesitation reached out to press some of the keys himself. “Does she like it?”

“I think so,” Scorpius said and chuckled a bit as Atlas’s note clashed with his own and the little boy immediately lifted his hand off, “How else was I going to convince her to love me?”

“Ew,” Atlas said, wrinkling his nose, so much like Rose. Scorpius shook his head and started to play again, this time up to tempo, and he sang the words gently, mostly into Atlas’s hair. His little nose was still scrunched up.

“It doesn’t sound right.”

Scorpius stopped, surprised. “You’re right… it’s a bit out of tune,” he said. He didn’t expect his seven-year-old to have perfect pitch. Life was about the little things.

“Can I play too?” Atlas asked, looking up with a hopeful expression.

Scorpius smiled down at him and nodded. “Of course you can,” he said, “I’ll teach you.”


	2. Healer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be my favorite version of him.

_Then_

Scorpius had never been so nervous in his whole life. That morning he had told Rose and Al that his nerves were from excitement just to make sure they didn’t worry about him, but that was a boldfaced lie. He was freaking out.

The lobby of St. Mungo’s was thankfully nearly empty, save for a couple sleepy wizards in the corner. He approached the Welcome Witch behind the Inquiries desk, which he had seen people do in his small number of visits to the hospital. Before he could say anything, she said, “Here for training, love?”

Scorpius paused. She must have assumed from the early-morning time. “Yes.”

She opened a file. “Name?”

He cleared his throat. “Scorpius Malfoy.”

The witch handed him a badge. She didn’t react to his name, like professors at Hogwarts always did. “As long as this is attached to you, it’ll get you past all of the security. You’ll want the top floor to start. Welcome to St. Mungo’s.” She dismissed him with a smile and turned back to her logbook. Scorpius blinked, and then with heart hammering went to the double doors to the rest of the hospital.

That went too fast. He didn’t have time to process it all.

In the lift, Scorpius leaned against the wall because he thought he might pass out if he didn’t. Before it started to go up, two Healers walked in. Their lime green robes nearly shown in the light as if they were taunting him. They had already gone through this… he almost wanted to cry for help. One pressed the number five, two buttons under where Scorpius had pressed the nine. The doors closed. He hoped they didn’t even notice he was there.

But of course they did. “Hey, kid,” said the taller, male one, who happened to glance over his shoulder when Scorpius made the mistake of shifting. “Nice badge.”

“Must be the first day of training,” remarked the other, a severe looking woman with gray hair.

Scorpius nodded, and the male Healer chuckled. “I remember my first day. Was sick right outside the door so I wouldn’t embarrass myself,” he said, “Don’t be discouraged by the ninth floor. Medicenter and Chief’s office up there.”

“Kind of boring,” said the other one with a nod.

“After today you’ll get an assignment, and it’ll be easier from there,” he continued. The lift stop and a cool voice chimed _fifth floor._

The Healers both nodded at Scorpius. “Good luck. Maybe we’ll see you in Spell Damage,” the woman said, and then they both left the lift.

Scorpius swallowed as he was left alone. He probably should have asked them questions to make himself feel more prepared. He hadn’t vomited at all… did that mean he wasn’t taking this seriously? Oh no. Suddenly he _did_ want to vomit. He wasn’t cut out for doing things that required a lot of self-assurance.

* * *

_Now_

“Were you really scared, Healer Malfoy?” Lena Craparo, Scorpius’s newest patient, was sitting up in her bed, defiantly, even after all of the times he had told her to stay laying down. She was nine, and the most curious little girl he had ever met.

He nodded at her in reply, one hand pressed over her wrist to keep track of her pulse while he swirled a tumbler in his other hand. It was one part Lena’s blood, two parts indicator dye. “I was terrified my first day. But I met two older Healers in the lift,” he told her, “And they tried to help.”

“Did they?”

“No ma’am,” he said and she giggled, “But they were from Spell Damage. That’s how I knew I wanted to be here, it’s the best floor, you know.

“Wow,” Lena said with wide eyes. He wasn’t exaggerating; all trainees wanted to be assigned to the Spell Damage floor, it was the most challenging and the most exciting. He had started out in maternity, but then the Healer-In-Charge discovered that Scorpius had a real knack for brain injuries.

Lena came from a little apartment above a Hogsmeade shop. Her family got robbed and the poor girl fell victim to a rogue curse. Scorpius took blood and added it to his potion to see if the curse had spread anywhere from the contact point.

“Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?” he asked Lena. He stopped swirling his tumbler.

She nodded. “A mediwitch! My mum was one before I was born,” she explained.

“Mediwitches are very important. Healers wouldn’t get anywhere without them,” Scorpius said with a little smile. Her smile in reply was bright and happy. She reminded him of his own daughter.

Scorpius looked away and to the tumbler he had been mixing. It told him bad news; the curse had indeed spread. The indicator was mostly a brownish red color, which meant a high concentration of Dark Magic, and black tendrils gripped at the sides of the glass. This little girl needed a procedure as quickly as possible before this curse circulated to her brain.

“Alright, Lena, I’m going to go talk to your dad,” he said. Her mum was currently in treatment for the same curse, but it hadn’t spread so quickly because obviously it would have a longer distance to go. “I’ll be back.”

Lena nodded. He didn’t leave until she was settled back into the bed, and even then he locked the door behind him just in case she got _really_ defiant. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his lime green robes and walked as fast as he could for the waiting room without alarming anyone. Or himself, really. He always felt like children were more personal cases.

Lena’s father was sitting in a chair in the Spell Damage waiting room. Scorpius approached him and cleared his throat. “Mr. Craparo?”

He rose to his feet. “Lena’s Healer?”

Scorpius nodded and shook the man’s hand. “Malfoy. I’ve just finished looking at your daughter,” he began.

“And?”

“The curse has spread significantly,” Scorpius explained, “She’ll need an immediate detoxification procedure to remove it.”

Mr. Craparo just blinked. “A procedure?”

“Yes. It would be simple, it just takes a lot of time, and she’ll be unconscious the entire–”

“No.”

Scorpius stopped. Did he say… no? “Sir, your daughter–”

“I know. She will heal, just like everyone else did before your fancy ‘procedures’,” said Mr. Craparo.

Scorpius wasn’t expecting this. Denying a child treatment. “I don’t think you understand. If this curse spreads to her brain she could be altered forever, or worse,” he tried to explain, all the while his face had blanched.

The other man nodded his head, looking worried but Scorpius knew there was nothing he could do to convince him. “Then it’ll happen. Whatever happens it’ll happen naturally,” he said.

So the argument was lost. Legally Scorpius couldn’t perform the detox without parental consent, and Lena’s mother was in no position to give any. She gave her Healers all the permission she needed for her own treatment, but at this point Lena was out of luck. And she could die.

A little girl could die and Scorpius was more than capable of saving her and her father said _no._

* * *

_Then_

The morning after Scorpius’s first overnight shift as a trainee, he leaned on the counter in the cafeteria while he waited for a cup of coffee. An unopened chocolate chip muffin waited next to his hand. He really needed to wake up, because he still had a couple hours left of his shift, and then he could go home and sleep. Maybe he could get away with just shadowing until the end.

The man behind the counter placed a cup of coffee beside Scorpius’s elbow. “There you go, son.”

He raised his head. “Thank you,” he said and handed over two sickles. He picked up his cup and his muffin and left the cafeteria, making his way for the lift.

While walking down the corridor, he spotted staff members refilling old vases with flowers and being rather meticulous with arranging them. Others were dusting various wall hangings. Scorpius only thought this was odd because he’d never seen this happen before. Maybe it was the exhaustion that made him realize these random things. Maybe they really did change the flowers every morning…

When he was back on the fifth floor and his coffee was already half gone, his boss rounded the corner and nearly collided with him. “There you are!” he cried and marched past. Scorpius knew that meant to follow him, so he did. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. We have lots to do today.”

“More than usual, sir?” Scorpius asked and used one and and his teeth to rip open the plastic on his muffin.

“Of course, Malfoy,” said the Healer-In-Charge, “She’ll be here in a bit over an hour. I need everything to run smoothly and look clean while I give her the spiel.”

Scorpius furrowed his brows. “She?”

He stopped and turned, giving Scorpius that exasperated look he was known to give all the trainees. Healers in Spell Damage often had little capacity for confusion. “The minister, kid,” he said.

Eyes wide, Scorpius swallowed his bite of muffin without chewing much. “The minister is coming here? Today?” he asked.

“Did nobody tell you?”

Scorpius shook his head.

“Well, now you know,” said his boss, “She calls it informal and just protocol, but it’s still important. Everything needs to go smoothly and do so without me for a bit so I can talk to her.”

Scorpius grinned a little and downed the rest of his coffee in one go. “Not a problem, sir, I can–”

“You will do what I need you to do, Malfoy,” the Healer interrupted, “And you’ll listen to Barthes.”

Cady Barthes was the attending Healer Scorpius answered to. “Well, yes, but the minister–”

But the older man was having none of it. “No buts! Go see Barthes, now.” And he walked away, leaving Scorpius standing in the middle of the corridor with a muffin mostly uneaten in his hand.

He had no choice but to do what he was told. There was no room for mistakes in Spell Damage, since being hired at St. Mungo’s on its own was too competitive, not to mention getting to keep his place in the department on top of that. Healer Barthes updated him on all his patients, and he would be on two rudimentary cleaning procedures that day. Curses sometimes stuck around for a while when they were bad enough.

While Scorpius was having a conversation with one his older patients, he heard the nervous and rather fake sounding laughter of his boss coming down his hall. That’s how he knew the minister had arrived, even before she said anything.

“This corridor is most of our older patients, the ones that stay overnight, that is. Usually for no more than a couple nights, mind you,” he said, his voice getting louder as he got closer to the open door.

Scorpius smiled at his patient. “Take a rest, Mrs. Shafiq. I’ll be back later with your results.” He walked to the open door and leaned on the doorjamb. He was feeling a weird mix of excitement and apprehension.

Minister Granger walked in the center, her hands in the pocket of her robes. Her undersecretary walked on her right, a notepad and pen in his hands, although Scorpius knew that the stationary could do things all on its own. The undersecretary was called Brian.

“This looks more like what I was expecting, Mills,” said the minister as she looked around, “I’ve only seen the wing with the permanent residents.”

Healer-In-Charge Mills nodded his head sadly. “Sometimes it’s hard to visit that ward, but those patients need all the care they can get. And they deserve to be comfortable,” he explained.

Hermione nodded. “Of course, I expect nothing less,” she said. They were almost on top of Scorpius now. Her head swiveled just a bit when he shifted, and she must have caught it in the corner of her eye because she smiled right at him. “There you are,” she said, stopping, “I knew you worked on this floor.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ten years,” Scorpius replied with a smile.

Hermione Granger shook her head. “Because you’re always here!” She held her arms out and approached him, and he embraced her, and she smelled like coffee. He was sure he did too. Over her shoulder, he looked at Mills, whose expression had morphed into pure shock.

When the two parted, Hermione took Scorpius’s chin and tilted his head up, checking him over like a mother has for most of his adolescent life. “You look exhausted, Scorpius.”

The trainee shrugged. “That’s because I’ve been here for sixteen hours,” he replied.

“Good. You’re doing good things here,” she said with a smile. She turned to Mills, who immediately clamped his jaw shut again. “Don’t you dare keep him if he doesn’t deserve it, alright? But he’s a good boy.”

Scorpius’s cheeks burned pink, and he looked down. He heard his boss splutter. “Y-yes, Minister. Would you like to continue?”

Hermione hummed in the affirmative. “Don’t make me break into your house, Malfoy. Come visit,” she said sternly before walking away again.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded with a chuckle. He received one more baffled look from Mills before they disappeared again. Feeling positively lighter, Scorpius went back to his work.

Before the end of his shift, no doubt when the minister had left the building, Mills found Scorpius filing paperwork behind the information desk. His face was still baffled as if he had still _just_ seen Hermione Granger give Scorpius a hug.

“Why did the Minister of Magic know you?” he demanded. The mediwitch a couple feet away snorted, obviously keeping in laughter.

Scorpius didn’t look up from the cabinet he was digging in. “She’s my mother-in-law,” he said simply.

Healer Mills was silent for a few beats, until Scorpius was done and had pulled out the right document. Then he muttered, “The minister… is your…?”

Scorpius slammed the filing cabinet shut and gave his boss the smuggest luck he’s ever thought of using, and held up his left hand, complete with wedding ring. Then he walked away. He definitely only got away with that because Mills was still puzzling it out. Didn’t this man ever read the _Prophet?_

* * *

_Now_

Scorpius’s shift was supposed to end an hour ago, but he still hadn’t left the hospital. Lena Craparo was basically on death row. He could not let that little girl die.

Cady Barthes was still in the building and at the moment his only hope. He knew, deep down, that there was really nothing he could do but something in him told he couldn’t give up. Healer Barthes was at the floor’s medistation, filling out a form when Scorpius approached her.

“Barthes,” he said as he approached her, and she glanced up at him so he went on, “I have a predicament.”

She put her pen down. “That’s never a good thing to hear from a Healer,” she responded. This is something Scorpius liked about her over the former Healer-In-Charge, Mills. Barthes actually listened.

“I have a nine-year-old who needs a curse detox, or it will most likely kill her,” Scorpius explained, “And her father will not give consent.”

“Is there another parent?”

“She’s in her own treatment.”

Barthes pursed her lips, and Scorpius’s heart sank. “I don’t know what you want me to do about it, Malfoy,” she said.

“Help me,” Scorpius implored.

“There’s nothing I can do,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and pushing off the counter, “The parent won’t give consent, you can’t do the procedure.”

He couldn’t accept that. “This is a kid’s _life,_ Barthes.”

“Did you say that to her father?” she said, gathering up her pen and her clipboard and starting down the hall. Scorpius followed.

“I did what I could without hexing him myself.”

Barthes sighed. “Then it’s over with. You just have to wait and hope to Merlin that she will pull through,” she said.

Scorpius gaped, and he shook his head. “I can’t let a girl die from something that is within my power to fix!” he exclaimed.

Barthes turned to him, forcing them both to stop in the middle of the hallway. “I’m sorry, Scorpius,” she said, and she did look sorry, “But it’s the law.”

She left him standing there alone staring in the space where she had been. She was his only hope. He hoped she would have the power to fix this. Scorpius signed up to save lives. He got all those NEWTs, filled out applications, went to interviews, did four years of extensive training so he would even have a _chance_ to compete to be hired as a real Healer, and now two more years in here he was. He was here to save lives and this _one_ parent was keeping him from doing so. From saving a little girl.

There had to be _something_.

Since his shift was technically over, there were other Healers and medipersons making sure his patients were okay. Instead of going home, he went to the top floor and to the trainees’ break room, where he shut himself up with a room of books. He pulled down all of the ones he remembered about medical law and spread them over one of the tables. There had to be something about overriding parental consent in one of them.

Unfortunately, it had been too many years since his all night sessions of studying, and after just a few hours of poring over the law books he ended up falling asleep on them.

Scorpius awoke the next morning to a group of trainees leaning over his table. He bolted up, and his stiff back protested, causing him to groan in discomfort.

“Healer Malfoy…” muttered one of the trainees, a worried look on her face. She was from his floor.

Another one of them piped up. “Do you need a cup of coffee?”

Scorpius ran his hands through his hair and nodded. He really should have gone home. “Yes, please, that would be brilliant.”

Later when Scorpius had downed his coffee and made himself look less disheveled, he walked down the children’s ward of his floor to check up on Lena. It was still rather early in the morning, so he wasn’t surprised to walk in the room and find her asleep. She looked okay, and that was the worst part, because everything harming her was growing inside. He did his best not to wake her as he checked her vitals and her chart from the hours he was supposed to be off, and then left her to continue her rest. He hated himself for it, but he ended up in the potions lab afterwards, staring at the tumbler where he had isolated Lena’s curse.

It looked worse now. It was almost completely black on the inside, and the tendrils had grown to coat the inside like a web of tar reaching for the stopper to get out. It made him sick thinking of the that curse growing inside a child, and he wasn’t allowed to help her. Because it was _unnatural._

There was a knock on the lab door, even though it was open. Scorpius turned, and to his surprise Lena was there. Immediately he could tell she looked far worse than she did less than an hour ago. Pale and shaky. “Lena,” he said, turning towards her fully, “What are you doing out of–”

“I don’t feel very good, Healer Malfoy,” she said. She swayed and Scorpius rushed forward to grab her before she fell over. “I… threw up on the floor, I’m sorry, it’s all inky.”

Oh Merlin. “That’s okay, Lena, we can just get you back to bed,” he said and started to gently push her back towards her room.

“No,” she protested weakly and swayed again, “I think I’m going to faint.”

And she did. Scorpius quickly scooped her up and checked her over. The veins on her neck and on her temples were black and showing through her skin, and without even looking Scorpius knew that it looked the same on other parts of her body. He sprung into action.

“I need a PR in the next thirty seconds!” he shouted down the hall. Procedure room. A couple mediwitches ran from the station down the hall to start prepping, and the few Healers in the vicinity looked over in curiosity and surprise.

Barthes ran over as Scorpius placed Lena on a gurney. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m saving a life,” he replied as he charmed an oxygen bubble around the girl’s nose and mouth to keep her breathing.

“This is against the law, Malfoy,” she said and jogged alongside him as he and a mediwizard pushed the gurney towards the PR, “Her father said no–”

“Not anymore,” he interrupted. The gurney was rushed into the PR and Scorpius prepped himself for the procedure, shedding his robes, keeping his wand. “She came to me because she knew something was wrong and passed out right on top of me. This is an emergency now, it’s no longer up to parental consent. I know, I read three law books last night.”

So Barthes let him go, and he went to perform the detox. It was much harder and longer than it had to be because he had been forced to wait so long, and now there was a higher chance of the curse fighting back. But with some help he managed to pull it off, and while it left Lena unconscious and pale, she would be fine. A couple more days and she would get her color back and would be able to go home. She would get to live.

As imagined it did not go over well when Scorpius had no choice but to tell Lena’s father about the emergency detox. Of course, he was outraged, because Scorpius had gone against his wishes and performed the procedure on his daughter.

“It was perfectly legal–”

“You had no right,” said Mr. Craparo, interrupting, and Scorpius leaned away from the man’s pointing finger.

He looked evenly at him. “She nearly fainted right onto the floor. She came to me because she knew something was wrong with her body,” he responded calmly. He was reacting like the trained Healer he was, but the father of a daughter inside him was _exploding._

“She’s a child, she doesn’t know–”

This time Barthes interrupted. She stepped in between Scorpius and Lena’s father. “Bottom line, sir. Your daughter was almost dead on the floor and in an emergency, any kind of treatment is perfectly legal with parental consent or no. Healers swore an oath to save saves. Without Healer Malfoy your daughter would be _dead,_ do you understand that?”

Mr. Craparo said nothing. His eyes were strangely glassy, like he could start crying at any moment.

“So I am not going to allow you to stand there and shout at one of my attendings for doing his job so exceptionally,” she concluded and straightened her robes, “You may see your daughter when she wakes up, her mediwitch will come let you know. Good day.”

And she turned and marched away. Scorpius couldn’t help but grin. “She’ll be ready to go home in less than a week,” he said before he also left the waiting room. The pride was back, from a successful detox and from Cady Barthes saying everything he wanted to say himself so beautifully.

Scorpius didn’t talk to Lena’s father again, he only saw her. After this ordeal, he went home and gave his own little girl a few extra hugs for a couple days. Lena thought that story was the cutest thing she ever heard.

On one of the last days the girl was in Scorpius’s care, a woman stopped by her room while he was there. She knocked on the door and got both their attentions, and Lena immediately squealed, “Mummy!” The woman didn’t wait for Scorpius to say anything before she darted in and threw her arms around Lena and hugged her tight. Scorpius just stood by, letting them have their moment, and then the mother turned her head and mouthed silently to him.

_Thank you._


End file.
